The Colour of Love
by clefaerie
Summary: Eponine has lived a life of misery. Abandoned by her family and without a home, she is at her wits' end; until, that is, a kind-hearted stranger lifts her out of darkness. But will Eponine truly find what she is looking for? Rated M for sexual assault.
1. Chapter 1

Eponine lay motionless against the mattress, her scrawny frame tangled with the cotton sheets and doused in a sheen of cold sweat. Yanking up his trousers, the client flicked a small collection of silver coins at her and walked out without speaking a word. The girl held her gaze on the cracked ceiling until she could no longer hear the thumping of his boots on the floorboards.

Eponine turned her head to look at her pitiful reward. Ten sous per customer, she charged. Five lousy coins for allowing them to touch her, throw her around, do as they wished with her. It wasn't worth a whole ten francs, and her measly commission didn't even pay for bread, but it was the only means of support for Eponine and her family.

Since Monsieur Thénardier was convicted two years previous, charged with robbery and fraud, it was up to his eldest daughter to provide her poor mother and dear sister Azelma with the means for food and shelter. The inn, owned by Thénardier years ago, had gone out of business a number of days following his arrest. Madame Thénardier and her two daughters lived in a small, decrepit home a short distance from the old inn, now abandoned and with wooden planks nailed to the doors. And despite her lack of effort to modify their living situation, Eponine's mother always managed to find something new to complain about.

Why continue letting herself suffer this humiliation; this degradation? Because Madame Thénardier had raised her and Azelma; had fed and clothed them, and treated them well. It was only _really_ since Monsieur Thénardier's arrest that Madame Thénardier had begun to treat Eponine with less compassion.

She remembered the event of her father's conviction vividly. It was a Saturday afternoon. The inn was next to empty, with a single customer sitting at the table, drinking a beer. Madame Thénardier and the girls were helping to tidy it up. Azelma swept the stone floor of the tavern, and Eponine followed the trail of the broom with a scrubbing brush and a bucket of water. Madame Thénardier lazily dragged a rag over the tables in a feeble attempt to clean them. Monsieur Thénardier burst through the doors, his grin wide, his yellowing teeth bared. His enthusiastic entrance caught Eponine's attention and she looked up at him from her position on the floor.

Business had been slow recently, and Monsieur Thénardier had been leaving the inn during the daytime to wheedle the townspeople out of their money, and returning in the evening should any weary travellers request a meal or a place to rest for the night.

'Papa,' Eponine said by way of greeting, shifting her weight so she was kneeling, scrubbing brush in her hand.

'Eponine! Azelma, my girl!' replied Monsieur Thénardier, his booming voice filled with joviality.

'What the devil are you so 'appy about?' Madame Thénardier croaked, the volume of her demand making the customer nearby flinch.

'Just earned myself a good thir'y francs,' Monsieur Thénardier informed her. 'Chump didn't even hesitate. Bloody idiot, he was.'

'Thirty francs?' Madame Thénardier exclaimed, her shrill voice reaching the top of its register. 'Bloody 'ell, is that all? With the way you bounded in 'ere just now…'

'I don't see you gettin' any money,' Monsieur Thénardier retorted.

'Unbelievable!' Eponine's mother growled, throwing the rag down on the table. 'I stay 'ere and clean up after these bloody buffoons all day long, and this is the thanks I get!' She stomped out of the room. The customer sat at the table looked uncomfortable. Thénardier ignored him.

'How did you get that much?' Eponine asked her father.

'Legally,' Thénardier joked. 'O' course.'

The customer was now getting up to leave. Before he could slip out the inn doors, Thénardier blocked his path with his arm. 'Don't recall you paying for that beer,' he said, gesturing towards a half empty pint that the man had left on the table. The salt-and-pepper-haired traveller dropped some coins into Thénardier's hand and scurried out the door, too intimidated to argue.

Eponine shook her head. She did not approve of her parents' unlawful money-making schemes, despite being brought up around such behaviour. But the Thénardiers had raised her and her sister on the money that they had made this way, and so to complain or lecture them about it would make her seem ungrateful. With business at the inn slowing down and most of Thénardier's band of misfits having been thrown in jail, Eponine understood why her father did what he did to get money; but she wished that he would cease his dishonest methods.

The next evening, Eponine's wish was granted. The Thénardier family were sitting around a table at the inn. Azelma and Eponine played with cards that Monsieur Thénardier had nicked from a pedestrian passing by; Madame Thénardier sipped on a pint of beer; and Monsieur Thénardier counted the money he had made that day, over and over and over again. The usual daytime noise – children laughing and playing, merchants making sales, people talking – was dying down. The distant sound of horseshoes on stone could be heard, but none of the family took notice of the sound. The _clip-clop-clip-clop_ was drawing nearer, and suddenly the inn doors burst open. Three policemen entered; the inspector stood by the doorway whilst the other two seized Thénardier. Madame Thénardier rose from her seat hastily as her husband was dragged from the inn, voicing her protest. When that failed, she tried enticing the inspector in return for her husband's release. Eponine ushered Azelma to another room.

When bribery too was unsuccessful, Madame Thénardier begged them to let him go, but they refused to comply; then, he was taken away, and the family had not heard from him since.

**X**

Back in the motel room, Eponine pushed herself up into a sitting position on the bed and picked up the coins, dropping them into the cloth coin purse she had found. The bed was unmade, the sheets stained, a result of the recent activities that took place. The stench of sweat filled the stale air. Eponine pulled on her ill-fitting dress and draped a tattered blanket around her shoulders. She followed the client's example, leaving the shoddy inn and making her way down the street.

The streets were quiet at this time of night. Only candles flickered in the windows of some of the houses and taverns Eponine passed on her way to nowhere in particular. She took each step carefully, the darkness of night impairing her vision. The sky was like spilled ink on parchment, the stars glittering like jewels. Customers had been scarce, the previous man being Eponine's first of the night. It was late and the air was brisk, but Eponine could not go home to her mother with only ten sous. She took a seat on the dirty path by a stone wall and wrapped the blanket tightly around her body.

Hours passed, the night growing older and the chilly breeze turning into a bitter wind. It howled as it whipped its way past Eponine's body, and she shivered. It swirled and twirled around the trees, caressing their branches, tousling their leaves. Eponine watched as the trees danced with the wind until her exhaustion got the better of her. With no one around, she slipped into a heavy, dreamless slumber.

A coarse voice jerked Eponine from unconsciousness, assumedly belonging to the beefy figure standing above her. The girl looked around groggily, trying to find a way of knowing how long she had been sleeping. It could've only been a few hours at most; the sky was still black.

'Oi,' grunted the figure, 'oi! Wake up.'

Eponine craned her neck, attempting to get a glimpse of who was talking to her. The stranger was well dressed, but looked scruffy with an unshaven face and dark, unkempt hair. Though muscular, he had a belly that stuck out over his trousers like a sack of four. 'Yes, Monsieur?' she said timidly, her voice hoarse from having just woken up.

'Get up,' he told her, and she obeyed. 'Whaddayacharge?'

His speech was slurred, and his breath reeked of alcohol. 'Ten sous,' Eponine responded, recoiling as she felt his hot breath on her face.

'Christ,' he griped, as though her miserable fee were too much for him.

'To do whatever you want,' she added. This seemed to pique the stranger's interest.

'Whatever I want?' he repeated. Eponine nodded.

**X**

The man grabbed Eponine by the shoulders and shoved her back with such might that she stumbled onto the mattress behind her. It was firm beneath her body and she could feel something poking into her back, but she didn't dare move as he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off. His belly slumped over his trousers. 'You'll refer t' me as M'sieur, got it?'

'Yes.' Eponine uttered. 'M'sieur,' she added after receiving a scowl from the customer. When he frowned like that, his eyebrows came together like a mono-brow. Like one long, hairy, disgusting caterpillar. Eponine watched, feeling nauseous, as he unbuckled his belt and slipped out of his trousers.

'Sit up,' he ordered, and she did. He dropped his undergarments. Eponine sat very still as he moved towards her. She kept her gaze fixed on the grimy floorboards until he demanded she look at him. With heavy lids, she wore an almost lifeless expression. When Eponine did not automatically open her mouth to accommodate the client, he used his fingers to pry her lips apart. With his thumbs hooked in the corners of her mouth, he entered her.

M'sieur filled his fists with Eponine's ratty brown hair, and she choked and gagged as he forced himself as far down her throat as he could manage. Finally, he pulled out, releasing her dishevelled hair from his grip. He threw back the fabric of her dress and removed her underclothes. M'sieur ordered her to sit back against the headboard, and then climbed onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees before her. With his hands, he pushed her legs back and once again, thrust inside of her.

He glowered down at the girl, who held a vacant stare. 'Y' like that?' Although it was technically a question, his tone made it a command. When Eponine didn't reply, he slapped her hard across the face. 'Answer me, whore!'

'Yes, M'sieur,' Eponine deadpanned, the skin of her cheek stinging from the impact. She raised a hand and lightly pressed it against her face to help ease the tingling sensation. M'sieur forced her hands above her head and with one hand he pinned her tiny wrists to the headboard, while he placed the other hand around her throat. Eponine struggled not to let tears slip down her cheeks as he pressed his fingers into her throat. He continued like this for what seemed to be forever. But finally, the nightmarish scene came to an end.

When he finished, M'sieur collapsed beside an exhausted and aching Eponine. She gasped for air, making up for what he had restricted her to with his dirty fingers pressed into her airway. After a moment, he pushed off the bed and clothed himself. He tossed a sum of ten sous onto the floor of the inn, said, 'See you 'gain,' and he was gone.

Once clothed, Eponine dropped to the floor and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her thin arms around them. She pitied herself, for her throat felt as if she had swallowed razorblades; her face stung where she had been struck by his hand; her lower body burned as if he'd set her ablaze; and now, she had to go home to her mother and sister with naught but a measly twenty sous. Not even one franc. With the morsel of energy that remained inside of her, Eponine wept bitterly for what would surely come.


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING: This chapter contains rape and sexual violence. If this is in any way triggering for you, please do not read it! If you are enjoying this story and want to continue reading it, any upcoming chapters will be free of sexual violence (and if they are not free of this content, I will state before the chapter begins).**

**Thank you for reading! Stay safe!**

For the next few weeks, Eponine was fearful of everyone and everything. She would flinch at the smallest noises, would stifle tears when approached by a client, and avoided her home as much as she could. After the night with _M'sieur_, Eponine decided she could not go home until she had an appropriate sum of money. _Be a big girl, Eponine, _she would tell herself. _It's this, or it's perish. _For almost three days straight, she lived on the street, finding shelter from the wind in an alley between two inns, by the trash. Over this time, Eponine raised an additional sixty sous. She decided she could take no more customers for the time being, and that would have to do. A gnawing hunger had begun to claw at the walls of her stomach, and so she headed for home.

It was morning when she reached the dilapidated two-bedroom house. Madame Thénardier was sitting beside Azelma at the table, both of them doing nothing in particular. Eponine's mother looked up as she entered. 'Eponine!' she cried. 'Where the devil'd you get to? You 'ad me worried!' And then, just as Eponine thought her mother genuinely cared for her wellbeing, she added, 'How much you got?'

Eponine reached into her pocket and fished out the fragments of silver. 'Four francs.' She held her hand open, showing her mother the collection of dirt-encrusted coins. Madame Thénardier clicked her tongue repeatedly, looking down at the fistful of change.

'Four francs?' she repeated, scooping up the money and counting it silently, as if by doing so more coins would appear. 'Oh, Eponine, oh my dear. This won't do. Four francs ain't gonna get us nothin'.'

'I know,' Eponine said, looking sheepish. 'I'll earn more.'

'Atta girl,' Madame Thénardier rasped, sitting back down, dropping the money from her chubby fist onto the wooden surface. 'You get back out there an' earn us some more.'

'Is there anything I can take to eat?' Eponine asked.

Her mother grunted, 'Not for the girl who brings home four bloody francs, there ain't.' And so Eponine left Madame Thénardier and Azelma again. She stepped back out onto the street, closing the door behind her.

**X**

Eponine pulled the thin cloak around her frail body a little tighter, trying to protect herself from the wind. She walked, in search of food and water, until she could walk no longer and collapsed against a stone wall by the docks. She pulled her knees in close to her body, curling up to retain body heat, and closed her eyes. For a while, she fell in and out of consciousness.

Not long after, a man noticed her resting against the wall and woke her up. He was tall, lean and wore some kind of uniform—a captain's uniform, perhaps? Eponine couldn't quite tell. He asked her fee, his voice almost a whisper, as though there were others sleeping nearby that he didn't want to wake. Eponine replied, 'Food.'

'Food?' he asked.

'Yes,' she affirmed. 'And water. Please, I haven't eaten in days. You don't have to give me money, but let me eat, I implore you.'

The uniformed man agreed. He took her hand and led her through the docks, to a ship—once they moved out of the shadows and into the moonlight, it became clear that it was, in fact, a captain's uniform that he sported. He guided Eponine to his bed chambers and provided her with water and a small meal. When she was satisfied with the amount she'd had, she let him take her. She was grateful for what he had given her when her own mother did not, and so she didn't mind how long it took. When it was over, she thanked him and left, back out onto the streets of Paris.

For any customers who approached her after this, she charged her normal amount of ten sous; and although every now and again she encountered a few men that to call boorish would be an understatement, the one man that she feared most did not return. She remembered his drunken slur, _See you 'gain_; it didn't seem to want to leave her mind. But she thought that since he hadn't returned in a number of weeks, perhaps he had forgotten, or found another callgirl for a cheaper price.

But a few weeks later, he returned. Eponine had been wandering around town at noontime and had stopped by the doors of a bakery, mesmerised by the delicious scent of fresh, warm bread. She sat outside in hopes that some kind passer-by would notice her emaciated state and offer to buy her a bite. That's where he found her.

'Look who it is,' he growled, leering down at her. At least he could speak coherently this time. Eponine looked up, attempting to mask the fear she felt. 'Been looking all over for you. I thought you'd run off.'

Eponine did not respond.

'Come on, then.' He reached down and wrapped a rough hand around her upper arm, trying to pull her upright.

'No,' Eponine whispered, resisting his force. 'Please M'sieur, I don't want to.'

'Beg your pardon? How dare you! How dare you refuse me, a customer willing to pay?' The man's face swelled with rage. He yanked Eponine to her feet, his grip hurting her arm. Ignoring her pathetic attempts to beg for mercy, M'sieur led the girl to the nearest inn he could find.

'Please, Monsieur, I beg of you. Let me be,' Eponine whimpered, salt water stinging her eyes. Without a word, he brought his palm into contact with her cheek and then gripped her jaw with his hand so that she couldn't look away.

'From now on, you use your mouth for one thing only, unless responding to a question. Do you understand me?' Eponine did not answer. In one swift motion, he slapped her across the face a second time, repeating his words, 'Do you understand me?' Still, Eponine remained speechless. He shoved her back against the bed with such force that her tiny body bounced against the mattress. She tried to evade his grasp by crawling up the bed, but he wrapped a fist around her ankle and effortlessly yanked her towards him. 'Whatever happened to ten sous for me to do as I wish?'

His face was very close to hers and his breath reeked like rotting flesh. Eponine didn't know how to answer his question, and continued pleading with him. 'Monsieur, please let me go,' she begged.

'I suppose you won't do as I say, will you?' M'sieur sighed. He released her arms from his grip, and reached for the base of her dress. He tore a ragged strip from the material and forced it into her mouth, tying it around her head as a gag. He flipped Eponine onto her stomach and ripped another strip, threading her hands through the slats of the headboard and tying them together. Face pushed against the mattress, Eponine heard the man unbuckling his belt. He held his belt in one hand and pushed up the fabric of her frock with the other, revealing her soft skin.

In one quick motion, he struck her body with the leather. Eponine cried out in pain, the sound muffled by the material in her mouth. It tasted like dirt. The man whipped her with the belt again and again. It made a _whoosh_ sound as he forced it through the air, and there was an audible _thwack _as it came into contact with her rear and thighs.

'How—dare—you—disrespect—me—you—disgusting—little—whore!' he roared between blows. Eponine yelped each time the belt came into contact with her skin. Tears pricked her eyes as they welled, and eventually she failed to hold them back. She gasped for breath in between howls of pain, her body heaving as she wept.

When M'sieur decided she had taken a beating for long enough, he dropped the belt on the ground and unbuttoned his trousers. He put his hands on her hips and raised her backside into the air, pushing into her once again. Eponine tensed up. She was in so much pain, she felt numb. The tears halted and she did nothing more than lay there, hands bound above her head, grungy fabric keeping apart her upper and lower jaw.

The bear of a customer took longer this time, but after what seemed like a lifetime and a half, he pulled out of her, untied and ungagged her. And then he simply said, 'Be on your way.'

'My pay,' she braved, her voice feeble.

'You think you deserve to be paid?' he scoffed. 'I think not. You told me that you'd charge me ten sous to do what I wish, but then you disobey and tell me you 'do not want it' when I come back to you, willing to pay. So you won't be receiving a stipend from me, you audacious, ungrateful tramp.' He lay down on the bed and rolled over, facing away from her. 'Now leave,' he ordered. 'I'm tired.'


	3. Chapter 3

Eponine did leave. She scurried out the doors of the inn and started to run. She ran far, far away from the inn, from the viper, fear causing adrenaline to pump through her body. She ran until she could no longer feel her feet beneath her. It was evening before she finally collapsed in a heap in the middle of the street. A cold wind accompanied the arrival of the evening and Eponine found herself shuddering beneath her tattered dress. When she regained feeling in her legs, she pushed herself up off the ground and stumbled over to the side of the street, back resting against the wall of a toy store. There, she fell asleep.

When Eponine stirred, it was day time. She looked hazily at the people passing her, not even taking a moment to glance down at her in pity. Amongst the usual daytime commotion, she could hear a voice. An angry voice? No, it didn't sound angry. More impatient.

'Hey. Hey!' the voice cried. 'Are you listening to me? Get up! You can't stay here, you're scaring off customers. Hey!'

Eponine turned her head towards the shop owner, stood beside the entrance. He wasn't yelling at her exactly, but his tone wasn't particularly friendly. Eponine pushed herself up from the cold ground and steadied herself. She was cold, parched, and sore all over. Perhaps it was time she went home. Ignoring the blisters on her bare feet, she headed for the wretched place she called home, to the unfeeling people she called her family.

It only took her a short while to reach the decrepit house. Or maybe it just felt short because she had run so far the day before. She raised a grubby fist to the door and knocked, but there was no response. 'Mama?' she called. 'Azelma?' Still, she heard no noise from the other side of the wall. She pushed the door open. 'Hello?'

The room was dark, empty. Eponine was confused. Where could they possibly have gone? She closed the door and walked to the nearest store. 'Excuse me,' she said to the man at the counter. 'But do you know where the people who live in the little house down the road have gone?'

'The Thénardier family?' Eponine bobbed her head. 'They don't live here anymore.'

'What?'

'They left about two weeks ago,' he explained. Two weeks? How long had Eponine been gone? 'It is said that Madame Thénardier was planning to sell her youngest daughter to a well-to-do gentleman, but he ended up taking a fancy to the girl and invited them both to live with him instead. Why do you ask?' he added, eyeing her, as if suspicious.

'Curious,' Eponine told him, forcing a polite smile. She thanked him for the information he had offered and left the store. _Don't cry, Eponine,_ she told herself as she frantically blinked back tears, her lids fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

God, what was she to do with herself? Her father was in jail. Her mother and sister had abandoned her for a much happier life; to be wealthy was what Madame Thénardier had always dreamed of. In addition, she had no money. After her experience with Monsieur le _Monster_, she couldn't bear to go back to prostitution. She had no friends or home or support or food or money or anything at all. She had no love, no happiness. Nothing to look forward to. Eponine bit her bottom lip and wiped her eyes. Who would help her at a time like this? Who would reach out to a dirty prostitute with nothing to give in return? She ran her hands through her matted brunette hair and sighed. Once again, Eponine forced herself upright. She knew where she was going to go.

Eponine walked. It seemed as though that was all she did; wander around, trying to find nothing in particular. A home, a real home. A meal. A bed. A friend. She just wanted to fill the emptiness in her heart. She wanted to feel anything other than pain and regret.

Everywhere she went, she saw happiness. Children laughing and playing in the streets; families sitting down to a meal together; husband and wife walking side by side. Was it so much to ask that she might be happy too, even if just for a minute? An instant with someone holding her out of love and not just lust? A moment of joy, no matter how fleeting? She wanted to feel laughter bubbling inside of her, or the warmth that happiness brings.

No matter. Where she was going, she would surely feel something.

**X**

Eponine reached the bridge a little past dusk. As she made her journey it had begun to rain, and by the time she reached the stone overpass, she was soaked to the bone and shivering with cold. She looked over the edge, crossing her arms over her chest in a poor attempt to warm them, leaning against the railing. An icy breeze brushed against her skin, millions of water droplets cascading around her, the sizzle of rain now drowning out any other noise. Eponine looked down at the crashing water below. It seemed to dance, swaying one way and then the other, collapsing and folding onto itself before repeating the movement.

Eponine closed her eyes, allowing the wind to tousle her hair. Her ears were filled with the sound of the water, whether falling from the sky or frolicking below her feet. It seemed to beckon her. _'Ponine, _it cajoled. _Poor, sweet girl. Come here; it will be alright. _She imagined how cold the water would be. She wondered how someone who jumped would die. Would they die upon impact? Would they become paralysed and drown instead? Or would their body succumb to shock before hitting it?

The girl sat on the railing and carefully pivoted her body so that her legs dangled off the edge. Her hands gripped the safe side of the stone as if her body did not want her to do this. She felt her heart pounding against her rib cage. _Just relax, _she instructed herself. _Take a breath; it will be over soon. _Eponine's nerves seemed to be getting the better of her, though, and while she wanted more than anything to let go of the railing, her fingers would not comply; until she consciously decided, _I'm going to do it, I'm going to let go._

'God forgive me,' she cried, and forced her hands to open. She placed them on the side of the railing facing the water and pushed; and just as she started to fall, she was seized in a strong grip and pulled backwards to safety—or to misery. Eponine opened her eyes, angry, suddenly aware.

'What do you think you're doing?' she demanded. She looked up at the stranger—he was tall and lean, with handsome features and soft brown hair. He wore a fine uniform. He looked clean. He looked well-off. Eponine supposed _he _knew happiness.

'Don't do it,' he told her. 'Don't jump from there.'

'Why the bloody hell should you care what I do?' Eponine asked. Her heart still thudded in her chest, one part adrenaline, one part anger.

'I've witnessed too much death in my time, Mademoiselle, and I don't want to see it anymore,' the character said gently.

'That's not my fault,' Eponine retorted, short of patience for this stranger, seemingly too compassionate for his own good. 'I have nothing to live for anymore. Do you expect me to remain on this earth wallowing in misery forevermore simply because people like you can't handle the alternative? Leave me be, Monsieur; if you don't want to see me jump, then turn away.' She turned back around to the water.

'No.' His voice was firmer now, and he gripped her wrist once again. 'Please, I'd like to help you, if you'll allow me. Tell me what you want me to do.'

'Fine,' Eponine snapped, swinging back around towards the stranger and glowering up at him. Her body was no further than a few inches from his. 'I want employment, and if you can't provide me with that, then I want money. I want to be able to eat every day. I want shelter, and a bed to sleep in. I want safety. All I want, Monsieur, is an ordinary life.'

'How were you getting by before now?' he questioned, holding his hands behind his back. Even in the midst of a storm, he remained gentile.

'If I tell you that, you won't want to help me anymore.'

'I am not so shallow.'

Still, Eponine remained quiet. The stranger bobbed his head, accepting that he was not going to get an answer. He didn't want to push the girl. 'Well nonetheless, my offer stands. I can give you a place to rest, and food to eat.'

Eponine, who had hung her head to conceal mainly the shame she felt, now tilted her head up to look at him. 'Really?'

The stranger nodded, smiling as Eponine did. The corners of his mouth curved upwards ever so slightly, his eyes twinkling like the stars on a clear night. Eponine felt her anger melt away as she gazed up at his soft, welcoming smile. A mixture of emotions she didn't recognise crashed through her like a tidal wave, so overwhelming that she suddenly felt as if she couldn't stand any longer. The man caught her as she swayed backwards, and lifted her into his arms. He carried her down the road to his home.


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING: This chapter contains violence and rape. If this is in any way triggering for you, please don't read it!**

'My name is Marius,' the brown-haired man spoke as he took a seat in a plush armchair opposite Eponine. The girl was sat on a couch of similar design and colour to the armchair. She had bathed and eaten, and was now wrapped in a warm blanket. She was heavy-lidded, but his voice woke her up a little.

_Marius, _she mused. It was a beautiful name, and Eponine decided that it suited him perfectly. 'Eponine,' she replied.

'Eponine,' he echoed. At hearing her name roll off his tongue, she felt as if a flurry of butterflies had been set free in her chest. 'I trust you've enjoyed your stay so far?'

'All two hours of it?' Eponine teased. 'Yes, it's been wonderful. I'm so grateful, Monsieur, really. I am forever indebted to you.'

'Don't speak like that,' Marius said. 'You owe me nothing at all.'

Eponine smiled and rested her head against the arm of the couch, exhausted from weeks of ill sleeping and eating rhythms and relentless stress. Marius watched as the petite brunette began to doze off. He rose from his seat and placed a hand on her shoulder, waking her gently. 'You'd best get some sleep,' he told her, helping her off the couch and down the corridor to what was presumably the room she would be staying in.

Marius pushed open the door to reveal a beautifully decorated and well-furnished bedroom. A wide bed sat against the far wall by a large window, with a magnificent cushioned headboard that reached the ceiling. On the adjacent wall was a fireplace with a great mirror above the mantle, framed with maple wood. An intricately carved bedside table, also crafted from maple, rested beside the bed with a fine candelabra and some china trinkets atop it. Some other pieces of furniture and ornaments were placed throughout the room, but Eponine was too tired to take it all in at the moment.

Eponine thanked Marius, and waited as he closed the door and walked back down the corridor. Once he was out of audible range, Eponine pulled back the bed sheets, slipped out of her tattered dress, and collapsed against the mattress. The moment her head collided with the pillow, the young girl was dead to the world.

**X**

'_Get off me!' Eponine shrieked. Somehow, the monster had tracked her down and come back for more. Eponine supposed that perhaps his twisted domineering fantasy would be ruined if she could not be dominated by him. It was a leap and Eponine felt weak, but she thrashed around as wildly as she could, trying to evade his grip._

'_Keep still, whore!' he boomed in response, trying to drag her onto the bed. Despite Eponine's fragile state, her flailing about was actually having quite an effect. He was struggling to hold her down._

_As she kicked her legs around, Eponine's heel collided with his kneecap with a force that made him growl in pain through gritted teeth. He flung the girl onto her bed and pounced on top of her, bringing his balled fist into contact with her body repeatedly. She raised her hands to shield her face and tried with all of her might to push him off of her._

_Eponine screamed and sobbed as he beat her. She hated him. She hated this. She hated herself. She hated everything. Her throat hurt from screaming. Her gaze was starting to get cloudy. The noises that filled the room – her cries, his grunts and growls, and his fist hitting her flesh – became muffled, as if she were underwater._

_She was beaten until she couldn't feel her body anymore, until she was covered in marks and bruises and blood. Was that his blood or hers? Maybe both. And then, as if he hadn't tortured her enough, he fucked her. Eponine could not scream anymore, and she could not cry anymore. She let her body go limp. She gave in. He was rougher this time than he had ever been, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as how Eponine would feel tomorrow; physically and emotionally. If she survived, that is._

_Where was Marius? This was his house, wasn't it? Didn't he hear the screaming? Wouldn't he save her? Did he preach kindness until someone was actually in real danger, and then leave them to fend for themselves? Was he even real? Perhaps Eponine was unconscious on the bridge and had dreamt the whole thing._

'_Eponine,' he growled. Hold on. He had never said her name before. In fact, she had never even told him her name. How did he know her name? 'Eponine,' he said again. She looked up at him. It was still his face, but his voice was softer, gentler. He spoke her name again, and again._

'Eponine.'

The girl was jerked into consciousness by a hand on her shoulder and a voice by her bed. It was a nice voice. It was Marius' voice. 'Eponine.' She turned to look at him. Her heart was pounding like never before, her body soaked in sweat, her throat burning.

'That must have been a frightening dream,' Marius said softly, his hand still resting on her shoulder. 'You were screaming and thrashing around. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't come to. Are you alright?'

Eponine tried to take deep breaths, to slow her startled heart. It had only been a dream, but how _real _it had felt. She could feel his fist as he bludgeoned her with it, could feel his sweaty body forcing her down, could smell his foul breath. It was this room that they had been in. She remembered seeing the headboard, the fireplace, the mirror through her foggy vision. And although it was over, Eponine couldn't help but cry.

With Marius by her bedside, she cried. 'I'm sorry,' she whimpered. 'I'm sorry, Marius. I'm sorry.'

**X**

'That's … that's quite an ordeal,' Marius admitted at last. He wasn't sure what else to say. Eponine had just informed him of every detail of her story from the day of her father's arrest to the day he had found her at the bridge. Her face was streaked with tears and she felt ashamed. Was that all he had to say?

'I'm sorry,' he told her, as if reading her mind. 'I'm finding it quite difficult to know what to say. It sounds like you have had a hard life, Eponine. I can't imagine how you must have been feeling on the bridge that day, and I don't suppose I will ever completely understand. Nevertheless, my offer remains. You may continue living here, Mademoiselle, for as long as you would like.'

'Kind M'sieur,' Eponine whispered. Her throat hurt too much to speak properly. 'You are truly an angel of God.'

Marius smiled and asked, 'Are you hungry?'

Eponine nodded. In all her panic, the girl hadn't noticed how empty her stomach felt, or the way it growled, begging to be fed.

'Come,' Marius told her, rising to his feet. 'We'll wait in the dining hall. Breakfast will be ready soon.'

'Could you wait for me outside?' Eponine asked timidly, motioning to where her dress lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. 'I need to …'

'Yes. Yes, of course!' Marius responded when he understood, and stepped outside of the door, closing it gently behind him.

Eponine cautiously climbed out of bed and, watching the door as she went, slipped the fabric over her thin frame. Before heading out the door to join Marius for breakfast, she stopped in front of the mirror to smooth out her lacklustre mane. She looked into the eyes of her reflection; for the first time since she was a child, they shone like stars with hope.

For the first time in too long, she felt thankful to be alive.


End file.
